Two Victoria Secret lip gloss (because one never fails to disappear so I keep a spare)

Keys (with my book key chains)

Orbit sweet mint flavored gum (because this is the only mint gum I like)

Runaway Cowboy

Rodeo #3.5

By: T.J. Kline

Releasing February 3rd, 2015

Avon Impulse

Blurb

”You had your chance, and you threw it away…“

Five years ago, Jen woke up with a ring on her finger and her fiancé nowhere to be found. She swore she’d gotten over the betrayal, but when Clay unexpectedly hires on with the rodeo for a week, she finds herself torn between passion and regret.

Clay left intending never to see Jen again. He’s been running from his troubled past for far too long, and it’s not a life he wants for her. But it’s hard to run from the past when the past is your own family, and Clay finds himself thrown back into the chaos he thought he’d finally left behind.

Will the truth drive Jen away, or is there a second chance at happily ever after for this runaway cowboy?

Author InfoT. J. Kline was raised competing in rodeos and rodeo queen competitions since the age of 14, She has thorough knowledge of the sport as well as the culture involved. She has had several articles about rodeo published in the past in small periodicals as well as a more recent how-to article for RevWriter. She is also an avid reader and book reviewer for both Tyndale and Multnomah.

Clay grabbed her arm, and she spun on him, wildly swinging her purse at his head and jerking her arm from his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

He easily caught the purse in his hand and dropped it at his feet as he pulled her into his arms. “What do you have in that thing? Bricks?”

“Let go of me, Clay,” she said through gritted teeth, twisting, trying to release herself from his grasp.

“Only if you let me explain.”

Every inch of her that was in contact with him burned with icy flames. The heat of his hands on her arms sent warmth running down her spine to melt her limbs and ignite the desire pooling in her belly. She wanted to push him away, to run to her trailer and stay there until he went back to wherever he’d been hiding, but when her eyes met his, pleading with her to listen to him, she couldn’t deny herself just one more moment with him. How was she supposed to keep hating him when her body wouldn’t follow her commands?

“You have five minutes.” One for each year she hadn’t heard from him. He released her cautiously. She walked back to the truck, knowing he would follow, and flipped the tailgate down. She hopped up on it, letting her legs dangle. When he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his jaw, she quirked a brow. “Time’s ticking Clay. Start talking.”

“You know, for someone who seems to think she has everything figured out better than the rest of us, you sure can be irresponsible. What were you thinking going into that bar?”

Jen almost let her mouth fall open at the audacity of his accusation. She bit the inside of her cheek until the metallic taste of blood forced her to stop.

She jumped from the back of the truck. “That was some explanation. I can’t believe I waited this long for it.”

Clay’s fingers circled her wrist as she started to walk away. “I have at least three minutes left.”

He pulled her back toward him, drawing her against his chest as one arm circled around her waist. His other hand buried into her long hair, and she gasped in surprise as his mouth found hers. Her body betrayed her again, melting against him as her bones seemed to turn to molten lava. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders, but she wasn’t sure if it was to keep her balance or because she couldn’t resist touching him. His mouth was gentle, in spite of their argument, as if he wanted to savor this kiss, to taste her, to force the memories of the tenderness they’d once shared to the surface. Clay nipped at her lower lip, testing her resolve, and when she didn’t protest, he plunged ahead. His tongue swept against hers as she slid her hands over his shoulders before curling her fingers around the nape of his neck, twining into his hair.

Clay’s lips trailed over her cheek and jaw. “I’ve missed you, Jen. You have no idea how much.”

]]>http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?feed=rss2&p=119710Guest Post and Giveaway: Mira Lyn Kelly, Author of Touch & Gohttp://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11922
http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11922#commentsMon, 02 Mar 2015 09:31:00 +0000http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11922Please give a warm welcome to Mira Lyn Kelly! She dropped by the virtual offices to share a top 5, and there’s also an awesome giveaway for you to enter! Hey everyone, thanks so much for having me over and helping me to celebrate the release of TOUCH AND GO (Dare to Love #2)– Yay!! […]

Please give a warm welcome to Mira Lyn Kelly! She dropped by the virtual offices to share a top 5, and there’s also an awesome giveaway for you to enter!

Hey everyone, thanks so much for having me over and helping me to celebrate the release of TOUCH AND GO (Dare to Love #2)– Yay!!

Okay, so let’s get going… 5 Things You Would Never Find In Sam’s Bathroom:

1 – Axe Body Spray. The last thing Sam needs is more women attacking him in elevators and dark alleys. With his worn denim blue eyes, construction built body, and easy going smile, Sam’s never faced a shortage of female attention. Which has been pretty handy up until now, since he’s not much of a relationship guy. Why bother when the only woman he wants to go home to is his best friend Ava, and the last thing he’d ever do is screw that kind of perfection up by bringing sex into the mix. (Good luck with that, Sam!)

2 – A scale. Sam’s been working construction since Ava’s dad got him his first job in high school and while he owns his own company now, he’s still a heavily hands-on kind of guy which keeps him in top shape. Not that he’s the type to pay much attention to his looks, but Ava? Well she’s been keeping a close eye on Sam’s physique for as far back as she can remember. After all she’s been secretly in love with the guy since she was seven. Can you blame her?

3 – Clutter. Sam grew up in less than ideal conditions with an abusive, alcoholic father who couldn’t take care of his own son, let alone deal with the trash piling up around his derelict home. Flash forward twenty years and Sam’s got an immaculate apartment sure to wow his occasional guest, only he’s never really felt at home in it. Not the way he does in Ava’s cozy apartment anyway—which is why he pretty much spends all his waking free time upstairs in her place instead of his own.

4 – Sam singing in the shower. Sure he’s been known to partake in other recreational pastimes within those tiled walls, but singing? Not so much.

5 – Hustler Magazine. And not because he’s got some objection to spank bank material either…it’s just that his tastes tend to be a little more specific and a lot more taboo. Like the picture of Anne Hathaway in her Cat Woman getup…looking way, way too much like another fair skinned, dark eyed, sexy mouthed, brunette he has absolutely no business thinking those kinds of thoughts about.

So there you go… five things you would never find in Sam’s bathroom. But here’s a little taste of what you will find in Sam’s head…From TOUCH AND GO:

Jesus, his switch had flipped but good. Because this was Ava. And nothing in his admittedly vast and varied past had ever come close to burning him up the way she was.

How the hell was it even possible they could be like this together and still have managed to make it twenty years without giving in once or twice before?

A dark corner of his barely functioning rational brain knew.

Because it was Ava.

Because he’d never been willing to risk the most important person in his life for some casual screw.

But that wasn’t what was happening here.

They weren’t risking anything. This was just the culmination of a series of events that would never occur again. Stalker Steven needing a blunt intervention. A chemical reaction neither of them had expected when they came into contact. An unanswered question between two friends—two adults—who knew exactly what they were getting into, and who were solid enough in their relationship for a single night between them to be just that. A single night, granting a depth of intimacy that hadn’t been there before. One that would make them stronger.

Another breathless cry and Ava bit at his bottom lip, sucked it into her mouth as she rode his hand.

In the hallway. Of the apartment building her brother owned. Because he couldn’t stop.

Seriously, I loved writing Sam & Ava’s story, and hope you’ll give these two a read

USA Today bestselling author Mira Lyn Kelly cranks up the heat for two lifelong friends whose most secret longings come true in every delectable way.Vivacious and successful, Ava Meyers is living her dream life, except for one thing: Ever since childhood, she’s been in love with her best friend . . . and she’s never admitted it. Back then, Sam Farrow was a damaged young man with a tough past. Now he’s supremely confident, super-sexy, and totally untouchable—until the night when Sam pretends to be Ava’s boyfriend to save her from some unwanted attention. In a moment of weakness, Ava finds out that a long friendship is no match for blistering sexual chemistry.After years of denying his own feelings, Sam finds that one amazing night with Ava isn’t enough to chase away all the pent-up fantasies. So he proposes they spend a few weeks driving each other wild, exhausting their every desire, and then return to their perfect platonic relationship like nothing ever happened. But Sam’s plan has one fatal flaw: the part where they give each other up. Because the more they let go of their inhibitions, the more they’re tempted to never go back.

USA Today bestselling author Mira Lyn Kelly grew up in the Chicago area and earned her degree in Fine Arts from Loyola University. She met the love of her life while studying abroad in Rome, Italy, only to discover he’d been living right around the corner from her back home. Having spent her twenties working and playing in the Windy City, she’s now settled with her husband in rural Minnesota, where their four beautiful children and naughty dog provide an excess of action and entertainment. When she isn’t reading, writing, or running to keep up with the family, she loves watching movies, blabbing with the girls, and cooking with her husband and friends.

]]>http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?feed=rss2&p=119221The Sunday Post and Stacking the Shelves–It’s March!http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11981
http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11981#commentsSun, 01 Mar 2015 10:34:00 +0000http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11981The Sunday Post is hosted by Kimba of The Caffeinated Book Reviewer. This is a weekly meme where we can share news of the week and highlight new books received. Dean and I are taking a little break this weekend, which I’ll tell you all about next Sunday. I hope you are having a great […]

]]>http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?feed=rss2&p=119810Giveaway: Manwhore by Katy Evanshttp://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11961
http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11961#commentsSat, 28 Feb 2015 10:53:00 +0000http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11961Today I have a giveaway for Katy Evan’s Manwhore! Is it possible to expose Chicago’s hottest player–without getting played?This is the story I’ve been waiting for all my life, and its name is Malcolm Kyle Preston Logan Saint. Don’t be fooled by that last name though. There’s nothing holy about the man except the hell […]

Is it possible to expose Chicago’s hottest player–without getting played?This is the story I’ve been waiting for all my life, and its name is Malcolm Kyle Preston Logan Saint. Don’t be fooled by that last name though. There’s nothing holy about the man except the hell his parties raise. The hottest entrepreneur Chicago has ever known, he’s a man’s man with too much money to spend and too many women vying for his attention.Mysterious. Privileged. Legendary. His entire life he’s been surrounded by the press as they dig for tidbits to see if his fairytale life is for real or all mirrors and social media lies. Since he hit the scene, his secrets have been his and his alone to keep. And that’s where I come in.

Assigned to investigate Saint and reveal his elusive personality, I’m determined to make him the story that will change my career.But I never imagined he would change my life. Bit by bit, I start to wonder if I’m the one discovering him…or if he’s uncovering me.

What happens when the man they call Saint, makes you want to sin?

Author Bio: Katy Evans is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Real series.

The first book in her adult contemporary series, Manwhore, is to release in March 2015.To find more, please visit www.katyevans.net

]]>http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?feed=rss2&p=1196113Review and Giveaway: Grave Matters by Lauren M Royhttp://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11979
http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11979#commentsFri, 27 Feb 2015 11:00:00 +0000http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11979My thoughts: I loved Night Owls, so I was eager to dive into Grave Matters. While it didn’t quite have the punch that the first book did, I enjoyed revisiting with Val, Elly, Cavale, and the rest of the Night Owls gang. The characters are what makes this series stand out for me, and I […]

I loved Night Owls, so I was eager to dive into Grave Matters. While it didn’t quite have the punch that the first book did, I enjoyed revisiting with Val, Elly, Cavale, and the rest of the Night Owls gang. The characters are what makes this series stand out for me, and I had a blast getting to know them better. There aren’t any that I dislike, and I even like the not so nice Stregoi vampires, led by Ivanov and his second in command, Katya.

Elly gets most of the attention in Grave Matters. She’s working as a bodyguard for Ivanov, the head of the Boston vampires. She has a tenuous relationship with the vamps, and as one incident after another start piling up and none of them make any sense, she begins to wonder if she’s putting a little too much trust in her employer. After she exorcises a ghost from a neighbor’s house, things get really weird. There’s a necromancer in town, and he’s causing all kinds of trouble. There’s also a rival vampire coven threatening Ivanov’s turf, so Elly has a lot on her plate.

There’s a lot of vampire politics and jostling for power. There are also an increasing number of the necromancer’s newly risen dead getting in the way and mucking things up. The necromancer interferes with both Cavale and Chaz, making them both determined to uncover his identity. While Cavale is a bad ass and more than capable of defending himself, Chaz is faced with the uncomfortable truth that he’s the weakest link of the Night Owls gang. Lia and Sunny can probably take on an entire town and emerge victorious, shy Justin, still adapting to his new undead existence, can more than hold his own, and Elly puts Chaz’ fighting abilities to shame. Add in Val’s reluctance to put him in danger, and you have a guy wrestling with his sense of self-worth. Chaz decides to do something about his state of helplessness, and finally comes into his own during the climax of the story.

There’s lots of action, and Elly is the main participant in the fighting. Cavale is in stealth mode, trying to track down the necromancer. When Chaz unlocks the key to the necromancer’s runes, they all have the uneasy realization that an ancient Mesopotamian god of the dead might be involved in the strange and deadly goings on, both in Boston and their towns. I thought this was a great twist, because, really, how do you defeat a god, and a god of the dead at that?

If you’re looking for a new urban fantasy series to take for a spin, the Night Owls books are great. They have great characters, fun plot twists, and lots of tense moments. The character interactions are my favorite aspect of the series, and there are just enough personalities to get to know without being overwhelming. The books are also very fast paced; nobody gets to sit on their thumbs for long before they’re scrambling to put out a paranormal fire or save somebody from an unpleasant end. I can hardly wait for the third book in the series!

Night Owls bookstore always keeps a light on and evil creatures out. But, as Lauren M. Roy’s thrilling sequel continues, even its supernatural staff isn’t prepared for the dead to come back to life…

Elly grew up training to kill things that go bump in the night, so she’s still getting used to working alongside them. While she’s learned to trust the eclectic group of vampires, Renfields, and succubi at Night Owls bookstore, her new job guarding Boston’s most powerful vampire has her on edge—especially when she realizes something strange is going on with her employer, something even deadlier than usual…

Cavale isn’t thrilled that his sister works for vampires, but he’s determined to repair their relationship, and that means trusting her choices—until Elly’s job lands all of the Night Owls in deep trouble with a vengeful necromancer. And even their collective paranormal skills might not be enough to keep them from becoming part of the necromancer’s undead army…

]]>http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?feed=rss2&p=1197910Spotlight and Giveaway: Soulbound by Kristen Callihanhttp://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11975
http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11975#commentsFri, 27 Feb 2015 09:14:00 +0000http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11975I’m thrilled to have Kristen Callihan drop by the virtual offices this morning to answer the following question: You have been granted the use of a super power for one week. What power would you pick, and why? You know, I went through all sorts of possibilities: invisibility, flying, mind reading. But then I got […]

I’m thrilled to have Kristen Callihan drop by the virtual offices this morning to answer the following question:

You have been granted the use of a super power for one week. What power would you pick, and why?

You know, I went through all sorts of possibilities: invisibility, flying, mind reading. But then I got practical. I choose Mary Poppin’s ability to have a room clean itself just by singing. Heh.

What would you do with it?

Sing my ass off. Seriously, this would be heaven. No more crazy house mess when I’m on deadline (or any other time, honestly). I’d just write and sing. And maybe a little bird would perch on my window sill and join me in a sing along. Sweet.

About SOULBOUND

Once two souls are joined . . .

When Adam’s soul mate rejected him, there was more at stake than his heart. After seven hundred years of searching, his true match would have ended the curse that keeps his spirit in chains. But beautiful, stubborn Eliza May fled-and now Adam is doomed to an eternity of anguish, his only hope for salvation gone… Their hearts will beat together forever

No matter how devilishly irresistible Adam was, Eliza couldn’t stand the thought of relinquishing her freedom forever. So she escaped. But she soon discovers she is being hunted-by someone far more dangerous. The only man who can help is the one man she vowed never to see again. Now Adam’s kindness is an unexpected refuge, and Eliza finds that some vows are made to be broken…

About Kristen Callihan

Kristen Callihan is an author because there is nothing else she’d rather be. She is a three-time RITA nominee and winner of two RT Reviewers’ Choice awards. Her novels have garnered starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Library Journal, as well as being awarded top picks by many reviewers. Her debut book, Firelight, received RT Book Reviews’ Seal of Excellence, was named a best book of the year by Library Journal, best book of Spring 2012 by Publisher’s Weekly, and was named the best romance book of 2012 by ALA RUSA. When she is not writing, she is reading.

Eliza sat back on her heels, while Adam merely stared at her as though he had all the time in the world. “Fine,” she said. “Three weeks. I free you and you help me.” She gave him a warning look. “I’ll need your word that you will help me, that this” she waved her hand between them, “isn’t merely a way to trick me into freeing you.”

“This business was your idea, woman,” he said with affront.

“Nevertheless, I’ll need your word.”

The demon’s nostrils flared with a sharp exhalation. “My word then.” Eliza did not look away from him, and he glared back in obvious exasperation. “What now?”

“I’m merely considering if I ought to trust your word,” she said.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he bared his teeth. “I keep my word, whether I want to or not. My word is my bond. Honor, Miss May. Unlike you, I have it.”

“How dare you—”

“How dare you?” He craned forward, the muscles along his shoulders bunching. “Not so long ago you broke your promise of fealty. To me!”

“Oh, yes, how quick you are to remind me.” Eliza leaned close, grinding her teeth to keep in a shout. “You enjoy being quick, don’t you?”

His thick, dark brows furrowed. “What in the bloody blazes are you talking about?”

“You gave me all of ten seconds to make a choice.” Eliza’s fists ached from clenching them. “And what a choice. I was dead, my body sliced open, my blood on the ground. I would have done anything, anything,” she thumped her fist to her chest, “to get back my life.”

“So that makes it better?” he snapped back in outrage. “Desperation gives you leave to go back on your word?”

“No. That is not what I meant.”

“Then you agree that you bloody well have no honor—”

“You never explained what was involved. You never said I’d be chained to you, like some animal, for the rest of my days,” Eliza shouted. “I was told I would be a GIM. I was ready to serve you in that manner. You knew full well that’s what I believed. If anything, you swindled me!”

All at once, he sagged, though he still eyed her with resentment and distaste. Well, she had a healthy helping of those feelings for him too.

“I’m correct, aren’t I?” Ire and a red rage surged up within her. “And you have the brass to sit on your high horse and talk of honor. Well let me tell you something, demon. There is little honor in forcing a person’s hand. Or using your power to coerce those weaker than you.”

A black scowl twisted the demon’s face as he glared at some distant point. “Fine. May I continue, or have you more complaints to heap upon my head?”

“Please do continue,” Eliza granted.

His golden gaze flicked back to her. “I want to kiss you.”

“No.” The word burst out of her with force. “Absolutely not.”

Unfazed, Adam shrugged. “Unless you have something to offer in exchange for your freedom, Mellan and Mab will, as you say, merely hunt us down, and you’ll be back to where you started.”

“Then I shall find out what he wants.” Eliza straightened her back. She could do that. She must. Like hell was she going to kiss this demon.

Adam simply gave her a slow, wicked half-smile. “Fortunately for you, lass, I already know what he wants. What they both want. More than controlling you. More than torturing me, even.”

“Then why in blazes haven’t you used it to secure your own freedom?” Eliza blurted out.

“I’m only alive because they cannot break me into revealing where this item might be.” The belligerence burning in his eyes was gone in a blink, replaced by a look of pure cunning. “However, I might be persuaded to help you use the knowledge. All I require is— ”

“Fine,” she snapped, irritation getting the best of her. “I’ll kiss you.”

Silence fell, and Adam stared at her with those eyes of his. Devil’s eyes. Eyes that made a woman forget herself. Heat rose up over her breasts and crawled along the back of her neck. Eliza grasped her skirts, her fingers twitching. She would kiss him. Kiss a man who had brought her nothing but irritation. Maybe she’d bite him to boot.

His chest, gleaming with sweat, rose and fell in a soft pattern. A bead of perspiration broke free from the top of his shoulder and ran down along the firm rise of his pectoral muscles, straight toward the dark nub of his nipple. All this time arguing with him, she’d forgotten his state of undress. Not so now. She’d have to press up against those hard muscles, touch his skin. Eliza wrenched her gaze back to his face, and his sinful lips curled in a knowing smile.

“You know,” he said casually, “I believe I shall pass for the moment. I’d rather it be when you aren’t wearing such a sour face. Kills a bloke’s ardor, you realize.”

He laughed, a flash of even teeth. “Come now, Eliza, fret not.” He stopped then, that obnoxious smile growing and heating with promise. “I’ll take that kiss soon enough. ”

She rose to her feet in a rustle of skirts. “And I’ll be sure to bite that wicked tongue when you do!”

She marched out of the cell, slamming it behind her, as he began to laugh again. Bastard. She might just leave him here to rot after all. His laughing taunt echoed through the dark. “Now that I know tongues are involved, I’ll be sure to collect.”

[Elizabeth Harmon] Absolutely! A great way to describe my debut novel, “Pairing Off” is that it’s like “The Cutting Edge” with a Russian twist. It’s the story of a pairs figure skating duo who team up to train for the Olympics and fall in love in the process. What makes it different from TCE is that it’s set mostly in Russia and the hero is Russian. He’s also a champion pairs figure skater, rather than a hockey guy recruited at the last minute. Anton did play hockey as a kid though, and was proud to have the best double toe loop jump of any goalie in the youth league.

[Manga Maniac Cafe] Can you share your favorite scene?

[Elizabeth Harmon] One of the most romantic scenes is when Carrie and Anton skate on a moonlit pond in Moscow’s Gorky Park. Their relationship has deepened but they’ve not yet crossed the line from friend-zone into something more. I love the romantic setting, the sexual tension between Carrie and Anton, and also the details about the cold night, tinny music and the little crowd who applauds after watching this champion-level pair skate together. Watching skilled pair skaters do their stuff live is really amazing, especially when it’s impromptu, as this skate is. I also love Anton’s little comment to Carrie at the end, when he says, “guess we’re pretty good.”

[Manga Maniac Cafe] What did you enjoy most about writing this book?

[Elizabeth Harmon] Getting to know Russia and Russians, both through my own research and with the help of a Moscow-based blogger and his wife, who proved to be an invaluable resource. As an American, we don’t always get the most favorable impressions of Russia and it was great to be able to connect with two Russians who were so generous with their time and excited to see the city they love used as the setting for a light, fun romance. Corresponding with them also helped me create the cadence of Anton’s speech, and helping them edit an English-language cookbook gave me some insights into Russian home-cooking. The descriptions of fish pie and syrniki in Pairing Off were inspired by their family recipes.

[Manga Maniac Cafe] What’s one thing you won’t leave home without?

[Elizabeth Harmon] Something to read, because you never know when you’re going to be stuck waiting, as well as something to write with and on, because you never know when inspiration is going to strike.

[Manga Maniac Cafe] What’s your favorite snack when you’re working on a deadline?

[Elizabeth Harmon] For late night writing, nothing beats popcorn– NOT the microwaved stuff, but the real kind cooked on the stove, and tossed with butter, parmesan and salt.

[Manga Maniac Cafe] If you could trade places with anyone for just one day, who would you be?

[Elizabeth Harmon] Just one day? Probably an average person living in either ancient or medieval times. I think it would be fascinating to experience these worlds, but not live there long term, especially not as a woman.

[Manga Maniac Cafe] You have been granted the use of one superpower for one week. Which power would you choose, and what would you do with it?

[Elizabeth Harmon] There are a lot of powers I’d love to have, but surrendering them after a week would be so hard! I would choose teleportation, the ability to travel anywhere instantly. I’d make a list of all the places I’d love to visit, but are difficult to actually travel to and hit all of them during that one week. As a writer, this would be an amazing experience.

[Manga Maniac Cafe] What are some books that you enjoyed recently?

[Elizabeth Harmon] Fiction-wise, I loved “The Haunting of Maddie Clare,” which was beautifully written, and scary– kind of “Downton Abbey” meets “The Ring” if you can imagine that. I also enjoyed “ICE Blue,” a Chicago-set romantic suspense novel by Susan Rae. It’s the second book in her DeLuca family series and the latest installment is on my TBR list.

Since I’m in the midst of turning my National Novel Writing Month first draft into the third book in the Red Hot Russians series, I’ve been reading my favorite writing books which I always turn to at revision time. One the best is James Scott Bell’s “Revision and Self-Editing,” which takes the big scary revision monster and turns it into something manageable, as well as offering great ideas to develop characters and setting. Writing isn’t an easy job, but so much fun, because you’re always learning and improving.

Pairing OffRed Hot Russians # 1

By: Elizabeth Harmon

Releasing February 2, 2015

Carina Press

Blurb

A scandal-plagued American figure skater’s last chance at gold means pairing up with Russia’s sexiest male skater…who happens to be the first man she ever loved.

“The Cutting Edge” with a Russian twist.

American pairs figure skater Carrie Parker’s Winter Games dreams were dashed when her philandering partner caused one of the greatest scandals in skating history. Blacklisted from competing in America, her career is over…until she receives a mysterious invitation and is reunited with the most infuriating, talented—and handsome—skater she’s ever met.

Russian champion Anton Belikov knows sacrifice. He gave up a normal life and any hope of a meaningful relationship to pursue his dream. And he’s come close—with a silver medal already under his belt, the next stop is the gold. All he needs is a partner. While he’s never forgotten the young American skater he seduced one long-ago night in Amsterdam, he never expected to see her again…never mind skate with her.

When what starts as a publicity stunt grows into something real between them, Carrie and Anton’s partnership will test their loyalties to family, country, and each other. With only a few months to train for the competition of a lifetime, can they master technique and their emotions, or will they lose their footing and fall victim to the heartaches of their pasts?

I love stories that give a fresh take on classic themes, and feature characters and locations not often seen in romance. Give me a lovable, if less-than-perfect heroine, a gorgeous hero with a heart of gold, take them a little off the beaten path and I’m a happy girl.

I read a variety of genres– romance to horror and just about everything in between. I am a member of Romance Writers of America. I have worked as a freelance journalist for a number of local publications and am a contributing writer to Romance Writers Report.

When I’m not writing, I love to ice skate, bike ride, hang out at the beach or on my front porch. I love vintage homes, adventurous cooking, spending time with my family and traveling.

Carrie clutched the back of the sticky vinyl seat and braced for the end. She hadn’t imagined she’d meet it speeding down a Moscow highway in a small, vomit-scented taxicab.

“Slow down!” she shouted, but it was useless. The driver spoke almost no English. She knew three words of Russian. Desperately, she tried to remember one. “Pozhalujsta! Please! Slow! Gooo sloooow!” She gestured with raised, outstretched hands.

The driver glanced back. “Chto?”

Thank God, he’d understood. “Yes! Slow!”

Instead, she was thrown back against the seat as he darted into a tiny gap between an 18-wheeler and a sinister, black Lexus SUV with tinted windows. The Lexus honked its displeasure. Wind whipped through the open windows, blowing her hair into her eyes and mouth. As they rocketed past the warehouses, office buildings and apartment blocks that lined Kashirskoe Highway, Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky” blasted from the rear speakers.

“When I die and they lay me to rest…”

Nice music. What was next, Death Cab for Cutie? From behind, a shadow loomed. She turned to see the Lexus bearing down.

The cabdriver saw it too. Yelling, he gestured out the window with a raised middle finger and shot back into the center lane, just missing the front bumper of a cement mixer. More horns honked. She yelped and covered her eyes. It was best not to look.

She could have waited for a legitimate cab, but her flight landed late, Customs took forever and the line at the taxi-booking desk inched forward at a glacial pace. When two German-speaking business types left the official line and gravitated toward the motley fleet of private cabs parked outside, she’d followed. The driver, a friendly guy in a faded Beatles T-shirt and Yankees cap, promised in very broken English to get her downtown by 3:00, or 15:00 as it was known here, no problem.

She should have mentioned that alive would be nice too.

She was rocked by another wild swerve, followed by more horns and Russian swear words. Then, the cab slowed. She peeked between her fingers. They were on an exit ramp. The tense knot between her shoulders relaxed, and she glanced at her watch. Two forty-five. Miraculously, she’d survived, and was right on time to meet her new coach.

A little smile tugged at her lips. For the first time in a long time, things were looking up. They parked in front of an old red brick building in an industrial area near a river. A concrete medallion of a hammer and sickle loomed above the door, but the geranium-filled urns flanking the front steps were a nice touch.

The driver turned in his seat and tugged his ragged ballcap, ready for his fare. Carrie reached into her purse, her fingers brushed against the clasp of her wallet. At the airport, they’d agreed on one hundred U.S. dollars, but that was before he’d almost killed her. She shifted her gaze from his expectant, gap-toothed smile, to the dirty windshield. The peeling dashboard. The items attached to the sun visor with rubber bands. A pencil and notepad. A packet of tissues. School photos of two little girls.

The driver pointed to the pictures and his smile grew wider. “Moi docheri.”

His daughters. The pride in his voice required no translation. This man supported a family with his beat-up, smelly taxi. She counted out five twenties, and added an extra as a tip. “Spasibo,” she said. A Southern girl always knew the words for please and thank you.

As the driver carted her bags inside, she reread Galina Borisova’s email, shaking her head in wonder. American skating had shunned her, fans had turned their backs, yet here was the official paperwork confirming that someone—a Russian coach of all people—still thought Carrie was worthy of her time.

In the rink’s lobby, she bit back disappointment. This looked more like a neighborhood hangout than an elite training facility. Why was she surprised? Galina was a minor coach who’d gotten lucky and discovered Olga Zelenskaya, one of skating’s stars in the making. After winning silver at Worlds in Halifax this spring, Olga and her partner, Anton, had no doubt left to train with a top-level coach, leaving Galina to cast her net for new skaters. That she was willing to take on the pariah of American figure skating proved how desperate she must be.

Good thing Carrie’s expectations were modest. Since no one in North America would partner with her, she’d team up with a reasonably skilled Russian leftover, and find something low-profile to fill the days—maybe a cruise ship ice show—while she figured out what to do with the rest of her life.

In one corner of the rink’s lobby were wooden benches and day lockers, in the other, a shuttered blade-sharpening counter. At the rear of the lobby was a concession stand, also closed. The faint, fried aroma that hung in the air brought a memory of corn dogs. And just like that, she was ten years old, gliding across the oval at the Sweetspire Ice Palace.

Not that it would have mattered. She would have been back on the ice the minute the bandages came off. Skating once made her so happy. Dare she hope that it might again?

She pressed her fingers against her lips. She wasn’t asking much, just to find the joy she lost somewhere between landing that first jump, winning—then losing—the U.S. Championship, and arriving at this run-down Moscow rink, hoping for a fresh start.

She wiped perspiration from her brow and took a zippered makeup pouch from her purse. Her hair was a snarled disaster, but she tugged out most of the tangles and dabbed powder on her shiny cheeks. She slicked her lips in Succulent Peach, dabbed on enough Calvin Klein to mask any trace of the Vomit Comet and straightened her travel-wrinkled linen skirt and silk top.

She glanced at the swinging doors that led to the rink and took a deep breath. Time to face the future.

She’d seen Galina Borisova at competitions, but they’d never been introduced. Galina looked to be in her fifties and her thin neck, sharp features and spiky bleached blond hair, tinted pink on the ends, brought to mind a flamingo. Her dark eyes and brows suggested neither blond nor pink were her natural shade.

“It is well to meet you. Flight was agreeable, yes?” Galina’s accent was so heavy, Carrie struggled to understand. The ancient Zamboni rumbling past on the ice didn’t help.

“Yes. Spasibo. As I said before, I want to reimburse you for the airfare. I know it was very expensive.”

Galina waved the offer away. “Money is made to be spent. I consider investment. I wish you had let me arrange pickup car.”

“Really, that’s fine. You’ve been more than generous.” The Russian coach’s willingness to pay for and arrange everything now seemed too good to be true. Didn’t Dad always say “There’s no such thing as a free lunch?” She had the feeling she’d just flown six thousand miles to see him proven right. “I’m excited to begin training. I was a big admirer of your work with Zelenskaya and Belikov.”

Galina gazed wistfully at the departing Zamboni and the glistening ice left in its wake. “Olga and Anton were once-in-lifetime pair. Every coach should have good fortune to work with skaters so talented.”

Carrie offered a sympathetic smile. Losing her longtime students must have been heartbreaking for Galina. “Well, I’m no Olga Zelenskaya, but I’ve also been quite successful.”

Galina thinned her lips. “In your way. But we all must move forward, not live in past, yes?”

She bobbed her head, as her cheeks grew warm. Just how successful she’d been was the subject of ongoing debate. From the corner of her eye, she spotted someone doing warm-up stretches on the opposite side of the rink. “Is that my new partner? Your emails didn’t provide much information.”

A tall, dark-haired man skated out. Fast and athletic, he stroked halfway around, then cut toward center ice, launching himself into a double axel. After a confident landing, he glided into the far corner and did a camel spin, rotating with perfect form, his muscular body in flawless, T-shaped alignment over the ice.

Carrie caught her breath, but it wasn’t his beautiful skating that made her heart race. “Oh. My. God.”

“Yes, this must be good news for you. Antosha!” Galina waved, beckoning him over.

Carrie grasped the rink board to ground herself in reality, shaking even more than in the cab. This couldn’t be happening. But incredibly, it was. Her new skating partner was Anton Belikov, World silver medalist…and the first man she’d ever made love to.

He gave a polite nod, but didn’t smile. “Hello, Carrie. Welcome to Moscow.”

How could this be? He belonged with Olga, training at a top rink with a top coach. Not here, with a second-rate coach and skating with…her! She gaped and shook her head. “What are you doing here?”

His brows lifted in surprise. “You don’t keep up with news of your sport?”

Under normal circumstances yes, but these past months she’d avoided as much contact as possible with the outside world and especially the skating world. Galina crossed her arms. “Olga has teamed with Valentin Egorov. You are to be her replacement.”

She grasped the board tighter, as her out-of-control life spun into orbit. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Galina said. “You will train with me, and partner with one of world’s top male pair skaters. I cannot see how this is bad thing.”

Well gosh, for starters, she knew how he looked naked. Damn good, if memory served. Though seven years had passed since that night, this wasn’t an ideal start to a professional partnership. Even if he and Olga no longer skated together, she assumed they were still an off-ice couple. She searched his eyes for any sign of recognition. There was none. Was she relieved, or disappointed?

And how was it that Galina had simply decided to pair her with Anton, without even a tryout? Skaters were matched after weeks of evaluation, like dating before you were engaged. This felt more like a quickie Vegas wedding. She shook her head, as if that might clear her addled brain. This was ridiculous. They couldn’t possibly skate together. “We’re very different,” she began. “Olga’s delicate and artistic. I’m more of a jumper. An acrobat.”

Anton nodded. “You and Olga are different. But with right coach…and right partner, you could be champion again.”

His smile was much too attractive. Straight, perfect teeth gleamed against tawny skin dusted with the shadow of late afternoon stubble. She flashed back to that smile shining brightly in a stranger’s dim bedroom, as Anton gazed down and gently stroked her face. She crossed her arms over her chest as her cheeks burned hot and she let out a harsh laugh.

“Well, bless your heart.” The damn drawl slipped out, the way it always seemed to when she was nervous. “This is all very flattering but I’m afraid we can’t compete together. I’m an American. I’m not eligible.”

Galina spoke up. “Under international rules, you are eligible by permission to compete for us one year after date of your last competition for United States. Since you never skated at World Championship, your last competition was U.S. Nationals and this year, Russian Nationals begin exactly three days after one-year date. Our skating federation has contacted yours and both are willing to grant permission.”

Wasn’t that nice of them? Normally, a top-tier skater wouldn’t be released to compete for another country so easily. American figure skating was clearly anxious to be rid of her.

“As for citizenships,” Galina continued, “you can be both American and Russian. Becoming citizen here normally takes long time, but our government can be most accommodating when dreams of gold medals are at stake. Now then, shall we get to work?”

Carrie stared. Her hands fell to her sides. These two weren’t talking cruise ships. “Lake Placid is in less than seven months! You can’t be serious.”

But the Russians looked dead serious. Anton shrugged. “Not ideal situation, but neither of us is beginner. I am World medalist. You were U.S. champion.”

“Only because my partner slept with a judge!”

“Is that what you think?”

She gave a bitter laugh. “What difference does it make? Everyone else thinks so.” “Maybe you have something to prove, then?” His deep, exotic voice sent a shiver up her spine.

God, it was tempting. She’d been so close to her dream of competing at the Winter Games, only to see it snatched away. Here was another chance. Maybe, if she could salvage her career and restore her reputation, she could finally hold her head up. The public would forgive her. Dad would forgive her.

Was this the opportunity of a lifetime…or a disaster waiting to happen?

Just as she had skating dreams, Dad had political dreams; to win Georgia’s U.S. Senate seat this fall…then in a few years, maybe run for president. The Cody scandal had embarrassed him, and as much as it hurt that he’d done nothing to defend her publicly, she understood. His political opponents had slobbered over images of Les Parker’s cheating daughter like dogs with new bones.

Imagine how they would react to her turning Russian so she could compete in Lake Placid.

And suppose Anton suddenly remembered their night in Amsterdam? True, she’d had jet-black hair at the time, and been hidden behind those silly sunglasses she and the other Silverettes wore when they snuck out after curfew. Back then, she’d still talked like Scarlett O’Hara too. But hey, it could happen. How would he feel about skating with a girl he’d deflowered, even if it meant nothing? Nothing to him, anyway.

Besides, who was she kidding? She didn’t belong here. The Russians ruled figure skating—especially pair skating—like the popular kids ruled the school cafeteria. She’d been the queen of that lunch table in high school, and if you didn’t belong there, you didn’t try to sit down. She’d lost her seat in spectacular fashion and now the quarterback wanted to take her to prom.

This was too weird for words, and she’d had enough weird to last a lifetime.

]]>This morning I have a spotlight and giveaway for Break Sky, a new YA sci-fi by Cori McCarthy. Check it out!

Meet the Elite Teen Fighter Pilots of the United Star Academy

Full Name: GARRET POWERS

Call Sign: RIOT

Position: RIO (radar intercept officer)

Height: 6’1

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Blue

Age: 18

Originally from: St. Paul, Minnesota

Plane name and description: PEGASUS, Streaker Jet Prototype 2

Years in the service: 4

Personality strengths: Good kisser, and that’s about it

Personality weaknesses: Punching mirrors, loudmouth

A Teaser:

“Nyx!” Riot bounded through the rec room. He leaped over the rope and wrapped Chase in a crush of a hug.

“I went to your room to catch you. Pippin said you were in Kale’s office.” His face pressed to hers in a way that made her want to pull away, but she gave him a quick squeeze instead.

“We thought you guys were going to die,” he said. “Didn’t we, Sylph?”

Chase let go. “Not even close,” she lied.

Riot was the tallest in their class but on the thin side for flight crew. He had an annoying habit of putting his chin on the top of her head, and yet he was quirky cute with kissable, full lips. “We tried to fly back out to you, but—”

Sylph elbowed him out of the way. “Keep it in your pants, Riot.”

Breaking Sky

Sourcebooks Fire

March 2015 ? ISBN: 9781492601418

Hardcover/$16.99 ? Ages 14+

Fly to the last drop of fuel. Fight to the last drop of blood.

Showoff. Reckless. Maverick. Chase Harcourt, call sign “Nyx”, isn’t one to play it safe. In the year 2048, America is locked in a cold war – and the country’s best hope is the elite teen fighter pilots of the United Star Academy. Chase is one of only two daredevil pilots chosen to fly an experimental “Streaker” jet. But few know the pain and loneliness of her past. All anyone cares about is that Chase aces the upcoming Streaker trials, proving the prototype jet can knock the enemy out of the sky.

But as the world tilts toward war, Chase cracks open a military secret. There’s a third Streaker, whose young hotshot pilot, Tristan, can match her on the ground and in the clouds. And Chase doesn’t play well with others. But to save her country, she may just have to put her life in the hands of the competition.

CORI MCCARTHY studied poetry and screenwriting before falling in love with writing for teens at Vermont College of Fine Arts. From a military family, Cori was born on Guam and lived a little bit of everywhere before she landed in Michigan. Learn more about her books at CoriMcCarthy.com.

Praise for Breaking Sky:

“Strong characterizations, action, adventure, and emotion combine to produce a sci-fi novel that is more than just the sum of its parts.” —School Library JournalSTARRED Review

]]>http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?feed=rss2&p=119633Review and Giveaway: Witherwood Reform School by Obert Skyehttp://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11965
http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11965#commentsWed, 25 Feb 2015 10:00:00 +0000http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11965Today I have a review and giveaway for Witherwood Reform School by Obert Skye! If you have been following the blog, you already know that I enjoy all genres of fiction. Reading level is irrelevant. I love anything from picture books on up and I always have. When I saw Witherwood Reform School, I thought […]

Today I have a review and giveaway for Witherwood Reform School by Obert Skye!

If you have been following the blog, you already know that I enjoy all genres of fiction. Reading level is irrelevant. I love anything from picture books on up and I always have. When I saw Witherwood Reform School, I thought it would be worth checking out, so I was happy to hop on the blog tour. I haven’t read Obert Skye previously, but I have heard of his Pillage trilogy and have it on my TBR. Witherwood Reform School is the start of a new series about Tobias and Charlotte Eggars, a brother and sister who get themselves into more trouble than they’ve ever been in before. And to think it all started with tadpoles and gravy!

Tobias and Charlotte are mischievous kids, and they’ve already managed to drive off several governesses. Their latest, Martha, is like a thorn in their sides. She’s lazy, mean, and after threatening harm to Charlotte, Tobias has had enough. He very cleverly sneaks tadpoles into the gravy, fully expecting to be amused when Martha runs screaming from the house. What he doesn’t expect is for her to choke on a mouthful of mashed potatoes, hurl up the grossly contaminated gravy, and run screaming from the house – right as Ralph, the kids’ put-upon father, returns home early from work. Ralph is not in a good mood; he’s just been fired from another job, and his children are the last straw. He orders them into the car, drives out to the middle of nowhere, and drops them off at the gates of Witherwood Reform School. Then he leaves them standing in the rain, intending only to give them a scare. He then gets into an accident and loses his memory. Poor Ralph! Poor Tobias! Poor Charlotte! Their lives are all about to become a lot more complicated!

There is something weird going on at Witherwood, and it’s not just the creepy teachers and scary monsters patrolling the school grounds. As Tobias and Charlotte are forced to attend classes and do dishes and slave away on KP duty, they realize that something is not right. There are guys wandering around in lab coats, singing guards walking the halls, and mysterious rooms they are told never to enter. They are locked in their room at night, and they don’t even have pillows! That right there would be reason enough for me to escape. I mean, how are you expected to get a decent night’s sleep with NO pillow?

The tone of the story is very dry, and reminded me of Lemony Snicket. Witherwood Reform School is fast paced, and a very quick read. Charlotte and Tobias are likeable protagonists, even if they have a tendency to create mayhem. They are clever, which serves them well with their attempts to escape, but also unlucky, because every attempt is foiled, leaving them in more trouble than before. My only complaint is that it reads like a serial – think of Darren Shan’s Zom-B. It ended on a cliffhanger, none of the important plot points were resolved, and it has a feeling of incompleteness. I think it will appeal equally to boys or girls, assuming they don’t mind the non-ending and are ready to follow the series for the long haul.

Obert Skye is the author and illustrator of the Creature from My Closet series: Wonkenstein, Potterwookiee, Pinocula, and Katfish (forthcoming September 2014). He has also written the bestselling children’s fantasy adventure series Leven Thumps and Pillage. He currently lives indoors and near a thin, winding road with his family. Visit him online at abituneven.com or follow him on Twitter at @obertskye.

After a slight misunderstanding involving a horrible governess, gravy, and a jar of tadpoles, siblings Tobias and Charlotte Eggars find themselves abandoned by their father at the gates of a creepy reform school. Evil mysteries are afoot at Witherwood, where the grounds are patrolled by vicious creatures and kids are locked in their rooms. Charlotte and Tobias soon realize that they are in terrible danger—especially because the head of Witherwood has perfected the art of mind control. If only their amnesiac father would recover. If only Tobias and Charlotte could solve the dark mystery and free the kids at Witherwood—and ultimately save themselves.

]]>http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?feed=rss2&p=119652Guest Post and Giveaway: Meet Me at the Beach by V K Sykeshttp://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11951
http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11951#commentsWed, 25 Feb 2015 09:57:00 +0000http://www.mangamaniaccafe.com/?p=11951This morning I have a fun guest post from the husband and wife writing team VK Sykes. Check out the excerpt and enter the giveaway below, too! 5 things you would never find in Aiden’s locker by VK Sykes Junk food: okay, Aiden will make an exception for Dorito’s Ranch-flavored chips. Hey, a guy has […]

This morning I have a fun guest post from the husband and wife writing team VK Sykes. Check out the excerpt and enter the giveaway below, too!

5 things you would never find in Aiden’s locker by VK Sykes

Junk food: okay, Aiden will make an exception for Dorito’s Ranch-flavored chips. Hey, a guy has to have a few bad habits, right?

Pin-up pictures of models: because that is just crass and disrespectful. His mother taught him better than that.

Family pictures that include his father: Aiden does have a picture of his mother and brother in his locker. But his dad? No way.

A little black book with women’s phone numbers: see number #2. Yes, Aiden likes women but there’s no need to act like an arrogant ass about it, even if he is a pro ballplayer and a celebrity.

Letters from Lily Doyle: which, from Aiden’s point of view, is a damn shame.

About MEET ME AT THE BEACH

When Lily Doyle spots her high school crush Aiden Flynn on the inbound ferry, she knows trouble is about to dock in Seashell Bay. And not just because he’s more handsome than ever. If Aiden’s in town, the rumors must be true about his family’s plan to sell their coastal land to the highest bidder. But Lily will do whatever it takes to convince the hottest guy on the beach to protect their idyllic island home.Gorgeous Lily Doyle was the only thing Aiden missed after he escaped from his hometown to play pro baseball. Now all Aiden wants is to wrap up the business deal and get back to his life, not relive a past that still haunts him. But as memories rush in about the night of passion he and Lily shared long ago, everything else washes right out to sea-everything except the desire that still burns between them.

V. K. Sykes is a wife/husband writing team-Vanessa Kelly and Randall Sykes-who write romantic suspense and single title contemporary romance. One of the great things they appreciate about being writers is that they can work anywhere so Vanessa and Randy split their time between Ontario, Canada, in the summer and Florida in the winter. Both locations have shores just as beautiful as the imaginary Seashell Bay.

He gave an absent nod, almost as if he wasn’t really listening. “A big part of me just wants to sell my land and head back home. That way Bram will get the money he needs, and I’ll never have to lay eyes on the old man again.”

She tugged on his hand, exerting just enough pressure to let him know she wanted him to turn and face her. Some instinct whispered that he wasn’t yet ready to give up on Seashell Bay and that he needed her to help him work it through.

“But what about the other part of you?” she asked softly.

Though Aiden didn’t say anything, he did turn to look at her.

Lily rested her other hand on his chest, just for a moment, before dropping it to her side. “I hope you don’t go. I really, really hope you don’t.”

There, I’ve said it.

Aiden’s gaze roamed over her face. Even though it was so dark, her vision had adjusted, and she thought she saw yearning in his expression and a hunger that hadn’t diminished over the years.

Then he gently released her hand. “But you know I have to,” he said in a low voice.

That short, brutal exchange summed up everything. Impulsively, she’d taken the risk and put her feelings out there, but his answer hadn’t changed.

Clearly she was an idiot because instead of stepping away from him, instead of taking her cue from the gentle rejection, she moved closer and slipped her arms around his waist. It was the dumbest thing she could imagine doing, but she did it anyway.

Because it was Aiden, and it was a beautiful, summer night in Seashell Bay. It was their past and their present all coming together in a tangled web of starlight, pushing her to claim the moment they’d been too afraid to grasp that long-ago night.

“Stay for a little while anyway,” she whispered.

For several agonizing seconds, it seemed that fate held them in the balance. Then Aiden let out a huge breath and folded his arms around her, holding her tight. “For a while,” he murmured, brushing his lips across her temple. His masculine stubble softly chafed her skin, making her shiver.

Torn between heartache and relief, Lily turned her face up. Aiden captured her lips in a kiss that went from tentative and sweet to hot and passionate in the space of a few heartbeats, as she’d known it would. The feel of his mouth on hers, his tongue sliding inside to claim her with a fierce, almost desperate possession, transported her back to that night when they’d finally said yes to each other. It felt wild and new and yet so familiar in the best possible way. The years between them dropped away, almost as if he’d never left.